The Light at the End of the Tunnel
It’s been quite a week. The death of beloved actor Robin Williams has stirred up a great deal of emotion within many of us, myself included. I personally spent three days crying and I didn’t even know the guy. Perhaps it was because his genuine heart-felt kindness was so apparent as he gave of his time and talent so freely. Or maybe the sadness I was experiencing had to do with my own appreciation for how challenging life on this crazy planet can be sometimes. I’m going to let you in on a little secret. There was a time in my life when I felt very much alone and lost in pain with no idea what to do about it. I was unsure about whether I wanted to even be here. So, although the thought of suicide never entered my mind, I was intimately familiar with feelings of hopelessness and despair. At that time I was married to a man who, based on my current understanding of things, very likely had un-diagnosed bipolar disorder with narcissistic tendencies. His mood swung like a pendulum and much of the time being around him was spent walking on eggshells. Needless to say living that way put a great deal of stress on our marriage and the well-being of the entire family.
After two decades of trying to make that marriage work I was faced with the realization that that just wasn’t going to happen. So, for the sake of our 15 year-old daughter, who I was determined to give an opportunity to witness a more loving relationship, as well as for my own sanity and health, I closed that chapter of my life and ended that marriage. It took years to recover from the emotional stress and the wear and tear on my adrenal glands from spending so much time in fight or flight mode. So, yeah, I get it. Sometimes we just can’t handle anymore and we do whatever we can to find an exit.
You may be wondering how I turned my situation around. Honestly I believe it was divine intervention. That spark of divinity inside of me was able to let enough light through to allow me to see that the pain I was feeling had everything to do with being mired in the illusion of separation. Once I made my decision to live my life fully, the fascination for the solutions of this world diminished and it became clear that the only way to end the pain was through divine union with spirit, source, a higher power or whatever you choose to call it. Personally I still have difficulty with the word “god” because of its association with my catholic upbringing, which was steeped in guilt and shame. Its god had a punishing nature that did not at all resonate with me.
Anyhow, once I decided that I was “all in,” everything I needed to support life started to show up, all carefully timed and orchestrated with my best interests always at the forefront. As part of my healing I began sponsoring events for different authors, healers and speakers, each of whom offered something to support my next steps. A few years and a good deal of healing later, I met my husband, Mark, who is truly the love of my life. He has stretched my ability to feel loved and supported beyond anything I could have imaged was possible and I am so grateful for this opportunity to be with him. I was also introduced to a raw food diet, which helped my body to heal from the extreme fatigue and heavy metal toxicity through detoxification and nourishment.
One of the things I observed quite clearly during those difficult years was the effect that certain foods had on my former spouse’s moods. I know without a doubt the impact that diet can have on a person who is struggling with depression and mental illness. And, while each and every situation is different, there are a few constants that can make a world of difference. Some of these include diet, exercise and finding ways daily to activate joy in your life. For me this includes things like singing, dancing, being out in nature, working in our garden, hummingbirds, interacting with babies and children and expanding my clients ideas of what’s possible and helping them to heal.
Thank you, Robin. Thank you for your joy, your laughter and your vulnerability. Thank you for allowing yourself to been seen and felt. May we each in our own way honor your memory by living our own version of the love you so joyfully embodied and so generously shared.
What’s on your joy list? How can you activate more joy in your life? Are you loving yourself as well as you could?